


The Consoling Big Brother Role

by nxghtwxng



Series: Unlikely Allies [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Batbrothers (DCU), Batfamily (DCU), Brotherly Bonding, Coming Out, Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 14:02:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20009488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nxghtwxng/pseuds/nxghtwxng
Summary: He just wanted to know why Damian was acting like he’d just killed someone.Wait.“Dami?” Tim began, chest a little tight. "Did something happen on patrol?”When Damian shook his head no, Tim let out a sigh of relief.  “Okay, then what’s going on?” he pressed.There was a beat of silence before Damian finally spoke. “You’re dating the clone,” he said.Okay, Tim had no idea where this was going.ORDamian comes out to Tim and Tim does his best to be a big brother.





	The Consoling Big Brother Role

“You gonna go to the tower this weekend?”

“Maybe. Depends on how far along I get with this case.” Tim lifted file he was holding- a once-hefty manilla folder, the contents of which was now spread over his lap.

“Is that the Michaelson case?” Kon asked through the screen. The two young heroes were on a FaceTime call, Tim working on one of his Red Robin cases while Kon, sitting at Ma and Pa’s kitchen table in Smallville, worked on his Trig homework.

“Sort of,” Tim answered, reaching for a copy of the original police report. “Michaelson was in pretty deep with one of Gotham’s bigger gangs. He was also linked to a bunch of big names: politicians, big-business owners, y’know? I think there might be a connection between the gang and at least a few of those big guys. Michaelson could have been a middle man.”

Kon nodded dutifully. “You think he worked that job willingly? Hey, what’s the formula for area of a triangle?”

“One-half, base times height,” Tim replied absently. “And I’m not quite sure yet. That’s kind of what I’m trying to figure out.” He narrowed his eyes at the police report, re-reading the details of Michaelson’s murder for the umpteenth time. It was messy, but deliberately so, more likely a gang than a professional hit. Tim squinted at the attached photos, looking for anything and everything he had missed in his earlier scrutinies.

Kon hummed in agreement, as he copied an image of a triangle from his textbook to his notebook. A moment later his head tilted and lips pursed. “Wait, which one is my base and which one is my height?” he asked aloud.

“Huh?” Tim mumbled, looking up from the case file. “Oh, wait, is it a right triangle?”

“I don’t think so. The only angle they gave me is forty-eight degrees.”

“Try one-half, A, B, sine of C.”

Both boys were quiet for a moment, the only sounds between the two of them the rustling of paper and the light scratching of Kon’s pencil as he wrote out the offered formula.

“Yup, it worked,” Kon declared triumphantly. With a grin he added, “This is why I love you.”

Tim snorted. “Because I do your homework for you?”

“Hey, I do my own homework, thank you very much. All you did was toss out a formula. I did the real work here,” Kon teased. Tim let out another snort. “But nah, that’s not what I meant. You’re just so freaking smart, and I love that about you. I’ll never understand how you know everything you know.”

“Maybe because I actually study,” Tim retorted, though a faint blush did spread across his cheeks.

He and Kon had been dating for almost a year. When they first got together, Tim had honestly expected their dynamic to remain the same. Boyfriends, he had assumed, was just best friends plus some making out. For the most part, Tim had been right. They still played video games and watched movies and kicked bad guy butt.

Still, the one thing Tim hadn’t expected was Kon’s being a hopeless romantic. From the moment they had made things official, Kon had only evolved into more and more of a sap. If they were lounging on the couch, Kon’s head was either on Tim’s shoulder or in his lap. If they were standing, it wasn’t uncommon for Kon to come up behind Tim, wrapping his arms around Tim’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder.

Though Tim had, for the most part, grown used to Kon’s flirting, he was still surprised from time to time. While a simple “You look hot today” or a solid “Wow nice job throwing that criminal into the side of that building” didn’t seem too far fetched, Tim could honestly say he never expected Kon to declare his favorite thing about summertime to be Tim’s sun kissed skin and faint summer freckles. In fact, he had been expecting something along the lines of shirtless dudes and babes in bikinis.

“You’re blushing,” Kon teased.

“And you’re distracting me from my case,” Tim replied, reaching for his stolen copy of Michaelson’s autopsy report.

Kon chuckled slightly as he punched a few numbers into his calculator. “Hey, _you_ called _me_ , remember that?”

“Nope. Don’t recall.” Tim smiled at Kon through the screen. Maybe instead of going to the tower this weekend, he’d see if Bruce would let Kon stay at the manor for a couple days. It had been a while since they’d seen each other off-screen and outside of the capes.

Kon smiled back before returning to his homework. Before Tim could return to his case, however, there was a quick knock at his bedroom door. “Yeah?” he shouted. He assumed the visitor was Alfred on a search for stray dishes in need of returning to the kitchen. (Tim was infamous for hoarding coffee mugs in his room. He was even worse than Dick with cereal bowls.) However, the door opened to reveal not Alfred, but Damian.

The fourteen year old was already dressed in a Gotham Middle gym t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. He had a small bruise forming on his cheek (likely a result of the night’s patrol) and his hair was still wet from his post-patrol shower.

Even in his own home, clad in pajamas and bare feet on a Thursday night, Damian Wayne remained stoic. His back was straight and his face strategically blank, for showing emotion was showing weakness. Still, Tim saw past the act.

Over the years, the two Robin’s had come to understand one another. They weren’t close, but they no longer denied it when Bruce or Dick referred to them as brothers. Their reluctant bonding through missions and forced family movie nights meant that Tim knew a few things about the kid. For example, he loves animals, he draws in his free time, he over-trains when he’s worried about something, and he avoids direct eye contact when he’s ashamed or upset. And since he’d opened the door, he’d looked just about everywhere but Tim’s eyes.

Usually, Tim found it almost comical how Damian could stare down Gotham’s worst, go toe to toe with Deathstroke or Ra’s Al Ghul, all without batting an eye, yet he struggled to make eye contact with Bruce after he spilled hot chocolate on an antique rug in the office. Now, though, the evasiveness was somewhat off putting.

Regardless of their improved relationship, this was still strange. When Damian was upset he usually went to Dick. If Dick was away on a mission or at work, he’d go to Bruce. Tim thought he’d even heard about Damian going to Jason once after a particularly nasty fight with Bruce. But never had he gone to Tim.

“What’s up, Damian?” he asked, doing his best to keep his tone casual.

Then something really weird happened. Damian opened his mouth to reply, then quickly shut it as if he was redacting his statement before it was even uttered. “Um,” he started. At that, Tim raised an eyebrow because Damian Wayne, Son of Batman and Heir to the League of Assassins, did not stutter.

Tim made a decision. “Hey, Kon, it’s getting kind of late. Do you mind if I just text you tomorrow morning?” All three boys knew that though it might be late for some people, twelve thirty was in no way late for a teenage vigilante- especially a Bat. Still, for Damian’s sake, they pretended Tim’s reasoning was sound.

“Yeah,” Kon agreed. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Seeing Tim’s affirmative nod he added, “Good night. I love you.”

“Love you too,” Tim returned with a soft smile. Then, hitting the end call button, he turned his attention back to Damian. “Do you wanna come in?” he asked his brother, who was still lingering in the doorway.

Damian said nothing, but cautiously made his way into Tim’s room, side-stepping the junk strewn all over the floor. Upon reaching Tim, Damian perched himself on the edge of the bed, careful not to sit on any contents of Tim’s case file. “You’re room is disgusting,” the younger Robin declared, scrunching up his nose.

“Did you just come in here to criticize my room, Demon Spawn?” Tim shot back. There was no bite to it, though. Damian was acting weird, and Tim knew that meant something was wrong.

Damian went quiet for a moment, staring at Tim’s plain, dark blue comforter with far too much interest.

“Damian, seriously, what’s up?” Tim probed.

The younger boy remained quiet as he shifted on the bed, pulling his legs up and resting his chin on his knees. Tim sighed and began collecting the contents of the Michaelson file. He could just put in some extra hours after school, maybe do some hacking to see if the GCPD had found anything he’d missed (unlikely, though, considering their caseload). Right now, he just wanted to know why Damian was acting like he’d just killed someone.

Wait.

“Dami?” Tim began, chest a little tight. What if Damian had broken the golden rule? Bruce would be livid. Did Bruce know? Probably not, or Damian would still be down in the Batcave (Bruce’s post-mission I’m Disappointed In You Speech was an infamously long one). And if Bruce didn’t know, it would make sense that Damian came to him. With Dick being in Blüdhaven, Jason on a mission with the Outlaws, and Cass still out on her own patrol with Steph, Tim was the only one Damian _could_ talk to. “Dami, did something happen on patrol?"

When Damian shook his head no, Tim let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, then what’s going on?” he pressed.

There was a beat of silence before Damian finally spoke. “You’re dating the clone,” he said.

Okay, Tim had no idea where this was going.

Though it had been more of a statement of fact, Tim answered it like a question. “Um, yeah, Conner and I are dating. Why?”

Damian ignored Tim’s question. “So, you and the clone are…” he trailed off.

“Boyfriends?” Tim supplied. “Yeah we are.”

Damian shook his head. “No, I mean, you’re… you know.”

“What? Gay?” Tim asked. This time Damian nodded his head in affirmation. “Yeah. Well, I am. Kon is bi, technically.” Damian nodded again, still not looking at Tim. “Damian, you know all this already.”

And he did. Tim had come out to the entire family just a couple weeks after he and Kon had made it official. He had done it at breakfast. It was a lazy morning as they’d all been up rather late taking down a human trafficking ring that had been operating out of Gotham for the past couple of years. After the takedown, they’d all returned to Wayne Manor, everyone feeling both triumphant and exhausted. It had been an unspoken agreement that they’d all be crashing at the manor that night.

The next morning- well, technically afternoon- everyone gathered in the kitchen, drinking coffee and chatting amicably. Moments like this- drama-free with even Jason and Damian in a good mood- were rarities in Wayne Manor. Alfred and Jason had cooked up a breakfast feast, but for once, the butler didn’t force them around the table. Food was served potluck-style on the counter, and as everyone made their plates, they lingered in the kitchen, sitting on barstools and even the counters (Alfred must have been in a really good mood to let that one slide).

Tim remembered the morning in snapshots: Dick grinning as held a coffee mug with one hand, the other draped over Barbara’s shoulders. Jason and Alfred cooking, shooing away anyone else who tried to help. Steph, smiling around a mouth full of syrup-soaked waffle. Damian slipping Titus scraps from his and his siblings’ plates. Cass resting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce’s small smile when his daughter handed him a plate of eggs and bacon.

There was, of course, chatter and chaos in the kitchen, but for the most part, they had a single conversation flowing between the lot of them. As such, it wasn’t hard for Tim to make himself heard. Clearing his throat, he had said, “Hey, guys, I, uh, wanted to tell you something.” The chatter trailed off, leaving only the clank of silverware, the quiet gurgle of the coffee maker, and Titus’ sniffing as he searched the floor for more scraps.

As heads turned towards Tim, he could feel his heart start to speed up. It wasn’t that he thought anyone would react badly. Hell, Kate was a lesbian, Selina was most definitely bi, and he’d even heard stories about Dick getting drunk and hooking up with guys before he and Babs were official. But nevertheless, coming out was uncomfortable and awkward and he was pretty sure Jason would be making a gay joke sometime in the first sixty seconds of his being out.

“I, well, I’m sort of dating someone now,” he started.

“Damn, Replacement,” Jason shouted from behind the stove. Though the Red Hood was far less menacing when he was wearing pajamas and an apron. “Tryna make your ex jealous?” He gestured towards Steph with his spatula.

Steph snorted and rolled her eyes, “Bitch, please, _I_ dumped _him_.”

That was true. She had dumped him. It was also true that Steph had actually been the first person Tim had come out to. Red Robin and Spoiler had been sitting on a rooftop in those hazy hours between night and day, and Tim had told her. He had, of course, been an actual disaster, rambling, apologizing for leading her on, and gripping the edge of the rooftop in a vice-like grip so she wouldn’t be able to see his hands shaking. Steph, the angel that she was, had only laughed, given him a hug, and call him her gay, platonic soulmate. A few days later and Steph knew all about Tim’s crush on Conner and was doing all she could to help Tim out.

(“Just ask him if he’s gay!”

“No, that’s weird!”

“Fine, I’ll ask him.”

“Stephanie, don’t you dare.”

“Too late, I already texted him.”

“Steph!”

“Relax, I didn’t mention you at all. Just a friendly inquiry.”

“Still, Steph-”

“Oh, that was quick. He said he’s bi.”

“Really? Wow, okay, wow.”

“Yup. Imma write back and just say, ‘same.’”

“Alright… Wait, what?”)

As Jason snorted at Steph’s remark, Alfred raised an eyebrow at the young girl. “Language, Miss Brown,” he chided.

Steph smiled sheepishly at Alfred before turning back to Jason. “Hey, the truth is the truth,” she laughed.

Jason rolled his eyes ever so slightly, and went back to scrambling eggs and flipping bacon. “So, you gonna tell us who you’re dating, or you just want us to know you’re getting laid?” Jason deadpanned.

“Master Jason!” Alfred scolded. Tim heard a couple of his siblings laugh at that one, and he was pretty sure Damian had just scoffed.

“Yeah, well, about that,” Tim started. His eyes darted around the room, skipping from face to face. “I’m… I’m dating Kon. Like, Kon Kent. Conner. Superboy. We… I mean, I... ” He trailed off. He slowed his movement and allowed his eyes to lock with Bruce’s. “I’m gay,” he said, sounding a lot more confident than he felt.

In the end though, it had all gone over pretty well. Bruce had been fine with it, Dick had hugged him and told him he was proud of Tim for coming out, and Jason, well, Tim had underestimated him: He did not, in fact, make a gay joke within the first sixty seconds of Tim being out.

He made two.

But all that’s to say, Damian was aware and present when Tim had come out. He knew Tim was gay, he knew he and Kon were dating, and his sudden inquiry regarding their relationship was strange to say the least. Tim waited another minute for the kid to explain himself, but Damian stayed quiet. His knees were still pulled to his chest and he was now picking at a loose thread on the comforter. With his wet hair and meek impression, he looked more like the ten-year-old fighting for his father’s acceptance than the confident, teenage Robin he’d grown to be.

Tim scooted closer to his brother, bumping his shoulder against Damian’s. “Dami, I’m not a mind-reader,” he started. “Whatever’s going on, you’re-”

“I think,” Damian interrupted. Then, quiet enough Tim had to strain to hear it, he whispered, “I think I might be gay.”

Tim blinked, surprised. “Okay,” he said. He wasn’t quite sure why he was so shocked. As far as Tim knew, Damian was now fourteen and he had never really showed any interest in girls. Logically, he supposed, it would make sense that Damian was gay.

“You think?” Tim repeated.

Damian nodded his head slowly before shaking it in refutation. “No,” he said quietly. “I… I’m gay.”

Tim nodded. “Have you told anyone yet,” he asked.

Damian shrugged. “I told you.”

With a timid smile, Tim retorted, “Yeah, fifteen seconds ago.” Damian shrugged once more, wrapping his arms tighter around his knees. “Seriously, though, I’m the first one you’ve come out to?” Damian nodded, and Tim could see a faint blush coloring the kid’s cheeks.

The two of them very rarely spoke without a push from their family. Well, Robin and Red Robin spoke, working with one another on cases and patrolling Gotham, sometimes even without Batman or Nightwing. Damian and Tim though? They rarely consorted.

Tim, in all honesty, wasn’t really sure what to do in this situation. Between Bruce, all the past Robins and Batgirls, and all the drama that comes with the masks, moments like these- heartfelt, dramatic, and just slightly awkward- were familiar. Still, everything felt backwards: Usually he was the little brother, going to Dick or Jason for help. Usually he was the one coming out. If he was being honest, he was usually the weaker one. What is a somewhat distant adoptive big brother whose younger sibling once tried to kill him supposed to do when said younger sibling comes out? Especially when the bloodthirsty Demon Spawn seems oddly vulnerable and sheepish?

“Are you going to tell people?” Tim asked. “You know it’s not really a big deal. I mean, nobody really cared when I came out. Bruce was more annoyed by my dating a Kent than my dating a guy.”

“I’m not worried about Father,” Damian confessed. “Or Grayson or Todd or any of them.” Damian pushed his knees down, sitting Indian-style and folding his hands on his lap. For the first time since he had entered the room, he made eye contact with Tim. “I’m worried about my mother.”

“Talia? You think she would react badly?”

Damian sighed, and it was a sigh Tim was familiar with; his _God, Drake, you’re really so dense that I have to explain this to you_ sigh. Well, at least Damian was acting a little more like himself now.

“I’m the heir to the League of Assassins. It’s expected that I would, you know, produce my own heir. I can’t… I mean…” Damian trailed off awkwardly.

“Dami,” Tim started. “Talia and Bruce… It wasn’t like they were in love and decided to have a baby. Your mom… She selected Bruce. Your birth… it was calculated.” Even though Tim wasn’t saying so in so many words, both boys knew what he meant. The forced details of Damian’s conception weren’t so much a secret as they were a sort of taboo subject. Damian’s conception, Jason’s death, even the losses that pushed them all to become vigilantes- the Bats danced around the subjects, never ones to attack their trauma head on.

Maybe Kon is right when he calls Tim emotionally constipated.

“I know,” Damian snaps and okay Tim doesn’t seem to be doing so hot with his new role of Consoling Older Brother.

“I’m just saying,” Tim tries again, shaking his head. “if Talia expects an heir, there’s nothing to say that you can’t give her one. Just find a surrogate, you know? It’s not like you have to have sex with-”

“Ew, Drake!” Damian interjects. He lets himself collapse backwards onto Tim’s bed, and covers his face with his hands. Tim looks down at where his little brother has sprawled, scrambling for something helpful to say.

His eyes then catch on Damian’s t-shirt. More specifically, the words printed on the t-shirt: Gotham Middle Phys. Ed.

Gotham Middle. This kid is fourteen years old, young enough that he’s still finishing the eighth grade and gets embarrassed when his older brother says the word sex. And yet he’s worried about how he’ll conceive a child some fifteen or twenty years down the road. Talia really did a number on this kid.

“Look, the moral of the story is this isn’t something you should be worrying about. And by the time you are old enough to worry about it, are you even sure you’ll _want_ to be the League’s heir?”

At that, Damian lifted his hands from his face. He gazed pensively at Tim. For once, his expression wasn’t guarded, and Tim could visibly see Damian contemplating what he had just said.

Growing up, Damian had had it drilled into his head that he would one day inherit the League of Assassins. He was the Heir to the Demon, it was his duty and responsibility to uphold the Al Ghul legacy. It likely hadn’t occurred to Damian that, now that he was living with Bruce, he didn’t have to take on the League if he didn’t want to. In fact, if Damian did join a League when he was older, Tim saw the Justice League as a more likely future (Though of course he’d never actually say that to Damian, the kid’s ego was big enough as is).

From the look on Damian’s face, Tim could tell he was listening, and he took that as a sign to continue.

“Dami, you’re fourteen. If you want to come out, then come out. Bruce won’t care and neither will anyone on our side of the fight. If you don’t want to come out, then don’t, but don’t let Talia be the reason why.”

Damian was quiet for a moment. He looked thoughtful. Maybe Tim wasn’t so bad at being the big brother. As much as they fought, he did care about Damian. He just wanted the kid to be happy, to ease some of the worry Damian had about coming out, about his mother. Though they had both (vehemently) denied it, they really were brothers and-

“Ow! What was the for? I’m trying to help you!” Tim shouted. He grabbed at his side where Damian had just punched him. Granted, it didn’t really hurt. Damian was still lying down, which prevented him from getting that good a hit. Not to mention, after almost five years of moonlighting as a vigilante, Tim knew how to take a punch. Still, when your brother punches you, it’s only principle that you complain. And retaliate.

“Don’t call me Dami, Timmy,” Damian sniped.

Tim grabbed Damian’s ankle and flipped him over the bed.

“You’ll pay for that, Timothy!” Damian shouted from his place on the floor. With a small chuckle, Tim shot up from his bed and made a break for the door. “Coward! Don’t run away from me!”

Tim threw his door open and darted into the hallway, though he peeked his head back into the room upon Damian yelling, “Ulgch, gross! And clean your damn room, Drake!”

Sometimes, in an effort to teach Tim a lesson about keeping one’s space clean and tidy, Alfred didn’t clean Tim’s room for a few days. This plan usually backfired, however, as Tim’s room gradually became more and more inhabitable, and the teen did nothing to stop it. (Alfred has never made it more than a week without stepping in to stop the mess.) Damian, it seemed, had just fallen victim to Tim’s slobbish tendencies, the butt of his pajama bottoms now covered in tomato sauce from where he had landed in a three-day-old, deconstructed pizza. (If he wasn’t too hungry, Tim would just eat the toppings. And no, Kon, it’s not weird, the toppings are the best part.)

Tim’s chuckle turned into full on snorting laughter as he headed back out the door and made a break for the Batcave. Damian chased after him, shouting about how Tim was only one step above literal swine. 

It really wasn’t that late. Bruce was probably still in the cave. If Tim let Damian catch up to him at the training mats, they’d have less than a minute to fight before Bruce noticed. Still, after he broke up the fight, Tim could probably talk Dami into helping him on the Michaelson case before they turned in for the night.

Maybe he and Damian were closer now, but that didn’t mean their dynamic had to change. Tim liked his newfound role of Helpful Big Brother, and he hoped Damian knew he could come to him if he needed anything else. Still, he wasn’t about to stop messing with the kid.

Besides, the little brat had been asking for it.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this story for months, and it even faced a couple rewrites as I was posting it. If you enjoyed, please leave a kudos or comment, they always brighten my day!
> 
> Also, I'm thinking about writing a sequel in which Damian comes out to Bruce and the rest of the Batfam, so let me know if that's something you'd like to see!
> 
> Follow my Tumblr for more: nightwingbb


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